Nights Turn Into Days – Always (Rogue One - Sniperpilot)
by Writin'Redhead
Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Cassian is missing in action, presumed dead. No need to mention this is not easy to cope with for the whole crew of Rogue One – especially Bodhi.


I was a little surprised to find nearly no sniperpilot fics on ff net, since it's actually pretty popular on ao3, so here I am, moving all my fics to this site as well. Hope you enjoy. (Gosh, this story is my baby...)

Big thanks to my wonderful beta ashesofvampires (ashesofvampires. tumblr. com)

* * *

Nights Turn Into Days – Always

" _Force, Bodhi, you're acting as if this is goodbye." Cassian laughs. "It's not forever. You'll have me back to annoy you in a couple of days. I'll make you fix so much of the gear I'm gonna break that you'll wish I wouldn't."_

" _I won't," Bodhi says, a little indignant. He'd never._

 _They're in front of an old and modified cargo shuttle and Cassian is wearing the clothes of a humanoid travelling merchant, everything well-worn and patched up. He's preparing to leave for an undercover mission. Alone. And Bodhi doesn't like it. Not one bit._

 _The planet he's headed to has a bad reputation throughout the entire galaxy. Someone going there voluntarily is just as likely as volunteering for athlete's foot. It's in the middle of the Outer Rim Territories, but rumour has it there's intel that could be crucial. And Bodhi has to grudgingly acknowledge that while now most of the time he's Cassian Andor, Captain of their little crew, he's also still Cassian Andor, intelligence officer of the Alliance._

" _Just… watch out for yourself, alright?"_

" _Yeah. I promise."_

 _Cassian pulls him in for a quick, rough hug, slapping his shoulder, and just as quickly releases him again, walking off to his disguised ship. Leaving Bodhi to stare after his retreating form._

* * *

Bodhi always knew this day would come. With the lives they're living, it was only a matter of time. He just didn't think it'd be that soon.

Cassian has only been gone for two days, when in the mess hall, during the evening meal, a representative from High Command unexpectedly shows up with an announcement. He doesn't beat around the bush and starts talking as soon as he has the attention of most of the gathered rebels.

"Sadly, it is my duty to inform you all that the last mission in our fight against the Empire tragically cost the life of one of our best officers, if not the best. Officer Cassian Andor is missing in action, though presumed dead. He-"

"That is not true!" Jyn jumps to her feet and her sudden call interrupts the representative. "Cassian would not get himself killed, not like that! How can you even say that without a body?!"

"The ship, unfortunately, has been destroyed completely, but one of our pilots managed to recover enough of the wreckage that there is no doubt it is the Alliance craft Captain Andor used."

As livid as Jyn is, as quiet is Bodhi. He notices everything around him like his head is wrapped in cotton candy. Through the distant drumming in his ears he can hear her continue shouting. Something about refusing to believe _a single damn thing if the only thing they can come up with is a piece of space trash,_ but the drumming just gets lounder.

"Excuse me," he mumbles and pushes back from the table. By habit his feet bring him back to their room. The one he shares with Cassian. All he wants is lock himself in there and shut out the rest of the galaxy.

Once he steps inside, Cassian's things are _everywhere_. His jacket on the bed, a spare holster for his blaster slung over the back of a chair, the second pair of boots in front of the bunk bed as if he'd just put them there for a quick clean-up in the refresher. Bodhi had long since given up trying to clean up after him. Contrary to his demand for painstaking accuracy and order during missions, Cassian is surprisingly messy to live with, Bodhi had found that out pretty soon after becoming roommates with the man. But he guessed Cassian had other, more important things on his mind than to sort his socks according to colour. Like carefully structuring his next mission. Planning ahead for every possible outcome. Ensuring everyone gets back in one piece after another strike against the Empire. Everyone but himself.

Bodhi can't stay in the room any longer. He flees their – _formerly_ their room. Now it's just Bodhi's. At least until Command decides to stick him with someone else. He doesn't want to think about that yet.

He wanders around the base without aim or direction and to his surprise no one talks to him. Might be his face. He's not sure how his face looks, because he's not sure if he's angry like Jyn, or if he's devastated, or just sad, or regretful. Maybe it's a mixture of all of them, but honestly? He doesn't know. His mid just feels blank.

* * *

" _I can come with you. You need a pilot, right?" When Cassian doesn't answer immediately, Bodhi gives him a lopsided grin. "I'm a pilot. I'm_ the _pilot," he adds with a wink._

 _Cassian fixes him with a serious look. "That's not funny, Bodhi." Though Bodhi can see the corners of his mouth twitching upwards._

 _Affected by Cassian's near-smile, he knows he must be grinning like a lunatic himself. "You think it is, though."_

" _Maybe." Cassian ruffles his hair, as far as that is possible with the goggles in the way. "But you're still staying on base."_

 _Bodhi's smile drops. He can practically feel it falling from his face. "Why?"_

" _Because they need you here. More than I do. I can manage on my own."_

" _They don't…" Bodhi mumbles. "I'm just in the way…"_

" _Bodhi, you're not-" Cassian starts, but Bodhi cuts him off. He is definitely not in the mood to listen. Again. He doesn't want to hear the same old story about how great an addition he is to the Alliance, when all he does is take up space and fix stuff that is lying around. The only times he gets to be in a cockpit again is for smaller supply runs. And training, occasionally. All just because he's 'not fit for active duty yet'._

" _I want to help. I can go on missions." What he really wants to say is 'I want to stay with you', but he swallows that particular bit. "If you're worried about blowing your cover, I'm sure you don't have to. You're going as a merchant, right? I was a cargo pilot, remember, that won't need much acting on my part. I – I can definitely do it!"_

" _Listen, I don't doubt your abilities for a second, never did, believe me, but you know where I'm going. This is not going to be a joyride, and I would feel much more at ease if I knew you were here._ On base _. Please, for me," Cassian adds with emphasis and looks at Bodhi so intensely he has to avert his eyes._

" _That's not fair…" Bodhi mutters, staring at his feet. He knows it won't be easy. That's why he wants to come._

" _Life rarely is. Another time, okay?"_

* * *

That's what he'd said. And Bodhi had nodded, even though reluctantly. Just that now this other time would never come. He knew Cassian could be as stubborn as they get and Bodhi could kick himself that he hadn't been more persistent on his part.

He'd wanted to go along, wanted to help, he really did. Two people had better chances, anyway, and he'd be there to watch Cassian's back. Why did he just have to refuse?! Whether he thought it was too dangerous or Bodhi was incapable, either way, in his eyes, Bodhi had seen the truth – he didn't want him on this mission. He'd made it clear and Bodhi hadn't pressed the matter again. Only now he wishes he had. Even if it still had gone wrong, at least then he'd have had another chance to tell –

Suddenly Bodhi notices he's ended up in the hangar. There's the slightly battered X-Wing that has been entrusted to him. _His ship._ He walks around it. One of the cover panels is still missing, leaned on the exterior wall and waiting to be replaced after taking a shot from an Imperial fighter. A few lose cables are hanging out of the hole. Bodhi peers inside. An involuntary chuckle escapes him, despite the situation. The cables are one big jumbled mess. Just like his head.

Deciding he has to do something, just _something_ , to busy himself, he grabs the nearest tool kit and starts untangling the mess. Both literally and metaphorically.

* * *

The next morning Bodhi wakes up curled into the pilot seat. He worked late into the night until he'd finally felt tired enough to sleep. He didn't have the heart to go back to his room only to be greeted by a left-behind fur parka.

The mood greeting him in the mess hall is subdued – Cassian was well respected throughout the entire base, after all – but because of the sheer number of people there's still way too much noise for Bodhi's liking. He actually considers turning around and leaving again – he doesn't feel like eating anyway – but by some chance of luck he catches Chirrut's attention – the how is a mystery to him – and after the look he's getting he can't just silently make his getaway anymore. He sighs and reluctantly takes his food and heads over.

As he sets his tray down, Jyn is busy chewing out a uniformed officer Bodhi has seen before, somewhere. He can't remember his name, though the insignia on his chest indicate the officer is pretty high up the food chain.

"And I said I don't believe it!" Jyn snarls. "As long as I haven't seen his body, there's no proof he's dead! All I ask for is a ship and permission to – "

"No means no, _Erso_." The man cuts her off. A pretty brave thing to do, Bodhi notes dimly. "It was dangerous enough to recover parts of the wreck. I will not allow anyone else to go out there again in some suicide mission, looking for a dead man."

Bodhi flinches at the words. They make it sound so real. Even Jyn shuts up for a second. The officer's expression softens. "This is not easy for any of us. But we have a goal and a task. Captain Andor would have wanted us to carry on."

Jyn mutters something under her breath, probably a curse that would have made a twenty-stone dock worker blush, and stalks off in a huff. Bodhi just considers if the gruel on his tray is liquid enough to put his face in and drown. Sadly, it's probably not.

* * *

" _Come on, Bodhi, get up."_

 _It is way too early in the morning and the voice sounds way too awake and way too loud in Bodhi's ears. Even though he still hasn't been officially assigned to a squadron, at least he's allowed to participate in pilot training every now and then. Training that can only be described as_ hardcore _. He groans and turns his face back into the pillow._

" _What time is it?"_

" _Time to get up," Cassian deadpans and mercilessly pulls away his blanket. The warmth is suddenly gone and Bodhi blinks up at him, attempting an angry look, but only managing tired and rumpled. He couldn't have stayed angry, anyways, once he sees the man's face. Smiling a little and weirdly excited. "I want to show you something."_

 _They end up at the end of a narrow corridor, not quite at the top of the base, and Cassian punches in a quick sequence of numbers for a door to slide open. He then steps through and motiones Bodhi to follow him._

 _The door leads outside. It's sunrise and one can still see the outline of the other three moons in the early morning light. For a while Bodhi just stands there and takes in the image, until he slowly says, "This is nice. So quiet."_

 _Cassian turns at him and nods. "I come here sometimes. Afterwards, you know? To clear my head and just get away from it all."_

 _Bodhi has to swallow dry. He can only begin to imagine what 'it all' entails. The aftermaths of an intelligence mission always leave Cassian acting different, even more reclusive than his usual self, and it more often than not takes a couple of days for him to return to the way he was before._

 _The air is still chilly and Bodhi brings his arms closer to his sides. He shivers a little, but isn't entirely sure if the cause is merely the low temperatures, or thinking of the things Cassian has been forced to do for the all-justifying 'greater good'._

 _Apparently Cassian notices his discomfort, because he takes off his jacket and drapes it over Bodhi's shoulders._

" _Here. You're cold," he explains and sounds apologetic. "It's my fault, I dragged you out of bed…"_

 _He fumbles around and rearranges the clothing so it won't slide down, pulling it together at Bodhi's chest, and somehow his face just stays close. Just like his hands stay on Bodhi's shoulders. His brown eyes rise up to meet Bodhi's and he moves in a bit closer, eyes flickering away and raking over the rest of Bodhi's face. Then he stops, lingering at a certain distance – and Bodhi suddenly notices how his own heart has started to thump rapidly. He hopes it's not too loud and leans forwards, just a little, and –_

"Captain Andor, please report at conference room 2b at 0700 hours. Repeat, Captain Andor, please report at conference room 2b at 0700 hours."

 _They both jump at the shrill metal sound of the Comm call._

 _Cassian immediately lets go of his shoulders and Bodhi looks away, embarrassed. Did he misread the situation, after all?_

" _Sorry, I - I gotta go… Keep the jacket," Cassian calls over his shoulder and is gone._

* * *

The memories don't stay for long and the previous images soon distort and turn into those of a nightmare. But suddenly, through all of it, it's as if he can hear a familiar voice, talking to him as it did so often.

Bodhi jerks awake, panting fast and looking around. "Cassian?"

As soon as he's said the name aloud, he remembers and feels stupid. There's no one else but him in the room. He's all alone. He lies back down and tries to catch some more sleep before it's time to get up again. He turns around. And he turns again. After a couple more times of restless shifting from one side to the other he gives up, gets out of his bed, and curls up atop the covers of Cassian's bunk. It smells comforting. A bit like leather and fur. But maybe that's just his imagination.

"Force… I'm hopeless," he mumbles to himself as he closes his eyes and tries to find at least a bit of rest.

* * *

The same thing happens the next night. And the next. And Bodhi thinks this is becoming a bit of an issue.

* * *

The fourth he's planning ahead, and after a tasteless dinner he takes a whole thermos jug full of caf with him and heads to the hangar. It works pretty well. The hangar is quiet and calm, and it's nice to be able to work in peace. No one's asking him if he needs a hand, just so they can stay close and keep an eye on him. Always this worried expression in their eyes.

The lighting suddenly starts to flicker and slowly brighten up from the dim nightly glow inside the base and gradually becomes brighter, simulating dawn. He puts away the cutting torch and removes his googles to check the time. It's 0500.

"Well done, Bodhi," he says and wipes his hands on his jumpsuit. The soot stain joins a couple of greasy ones.

When he walks to the mess hall for breakfast – and some more caf, because, _stars_ , he needs some more – he catches sight of himself in a window. There's dark shadows on his face, especially under his eyes. Like, seriously dark shadows. Black-hole-dark and definitely not healthy. Okay, maybe not so well done.

Of course, his friends notice them, too. Though by some weird chance of luck no-one comments. Not even K2. He appreciates that. But it's not like he doesn't know Jyn and Chirrut are talking behind his back. They're only worried about him, he understands that much. Just, it doesn't make him feel any better.

* * *

Burning the midnight oil hasn't been as much fun as he's trying to tell himself, but it's better than lying awake in his bunk. It doesn't really matter _where_ he doesn't sleep. If he's working, he's at least not thinking.

So he spends another caffeinated night in the hangar.

* * *

The sixth night he's just about to make his way to the kitchens and get his daily – well, nightly – fill, Jyn is waiting for him, leaning against the door post and blocking his way.

"Bodhi."

"Hm?" He can't think of anything else to reply. She pushes off the door and walks towards him, putting her hands on his shoulders, and steers him in the opposite direction. "What- What are you doing?" Bodhi protests and tries to turn his head to look at her. His effort is useless, though. Jyn is strong.

"No more caf for you," she tells him. "There's such a thing as fixing a ship to death, you know?" Involuntarily his shoulders stiffen a little before he can force them to relax. "Sorry," Jyn apologizes. "Bad choice of words, huh?"

He shrugs. "It's alright."

From her huff, he can tell she doesn't believe him.

She brings him to his quarters and makes no move to leave again once they're inside "I won't have you running off to that hangar again." and they end up both sitting on his bed, sharing his blanket.

"I miss him, too." Jyn states quietly after a while. "It just feels wrong without him, somehow."

"Yeah." Bodhi nods and stares at his hands. He's lost count how many times he's thought that now. He looks up at her. "Do you still- I mean, do you believe that… maybe…" He has to swallow. It's hard to get the words out. "He's …y'know? Out there?"

"I hope so." She leans against him and the warmth is comforting in a way that it's telling him he's not completely alone in this. Although she sounds slightly less enthusiastic than before and Bodhi's heart drops a little when she adds in a lower voice, "It's been nearly a week."

Jyn stays until he falls asleep. When he wakes up the next morning she is gone.

But he's slept through the whole night.

* * *

His head is a bit clearer, and he feels a bit better after some sleep. So much sleep, he's even missed most of breakfast. He quickly ties back his hair and then makes his way to the mess hall. Just around the corner before he reaches his destination for a piece of bread – could be he's actually able to stomach something today – he nearly runs into a tall form. He looks up and – Stars, that man really is tall.

"Been on my way to tell you Chirrut is looking for you," Baze informs him.

"Oh." This is a bit of a surprise. "Where is he?" Bodhi asks.

Baze simply answers "Out."

While that's not exactly a precise location, Bodhi knows right away where he's expected. So he adjourns breakfast _sine die_ and heads up to the roof top of the Yavin IV rebel base.

The monk sits cross-legged on the ground, back to the door, when Bodhi steps out into the fresh air, probably for the first time these last couple of days. Chirrut hasn't said much about Cassian's disappearance.

"So Baze found you. Good. You weren't at breakfast, why?" He started to talk before Bodhi could even make himself noticed, head still trained at the tree tops going far into the distance.

"I- err, I overslept." He raises a hand to rub at his neck. The sentence sounds slightly surreal in his ears. But Chirrut doesn't comment on it, he doesn't even seem to notice. Instead he just turns around and gives Bodhi a wide smile and pats the ground beside him.

When Bodhi complies and sits down, Chirrut takes his staff and drags it over the roof. It scratches loudly on the stony surface.

"You know, my friend, life is not set in stone." He taps the ground a couple of times. Bodhi doesn't know how, but he manages to do so exactly were a long, thin crack runs in the old base. "When I came up here, the sky was pitch black. Like it would never be day again. And look at us now, sitting in the sunlight." He pauses before he continues in a lower, serious tone, "No matter if change seems unimaginable, we have to always keep in mind that everything is temporary."

Bodhi stares at the bit of weed growing along the crack. "As in time heals all wounds?" he asks doubtfully. Because, sure, he's feeling different now. But only as different as one feels after taping a small flower-printed band aid over a gaping hole in one's chest.

"That is not what I said," Chirrut corrects. But he also doesn't clarify further.

"Then what…" Bodhi starts but the sound of the door interrupts him, and Baze appears at the door. Immediately all of Chirrut's attention seems to drift away from Bodhi, now that he's said what he'd wanted to.

Just as Bodhi makes his silent exit and is about to close the door behind him, he can hear him telling Baze, "The Force around him is getting stronger."

For one weird, funny moment, Bodhi thinks he's talking about Cassian. But that cannot be. That doesn't make sense. He must have meant Bodhi. And for the first time since he's known the monk, Bodhi thinks he's wrong about something.

Though in his mind, he keeps playing around with his previous words, and he is able to draw his own conclusion: Cassian would kick his ass six ways from Sunday if he could see him moping around like this because of him.

* * *

He makes it just in time for flight training.

The motivation of the young Skywalker is outright infectious and Bodhi manages to focus solely on navigating through the manoeuvres with his X-Wing. It took him surprisingly little time to get used to the various characteristics and quirks of the model and he likes the general _feel_ of the ship. It's like nothing he's ever flown before and he can't think of anything else he'd prefer. Least of all a TIE.

Afterwards he's exhausted, both physically and mentally. He's even tired enough to give the hangar a rain check and slips under the covers of his own bed.

Of course, it's too good to last.

* * *

It's in the middle of the night when the horrid picture show in his mind starts once again, and he's rolling from side to side, sweating.

" _Bodhi… You're having a nightmare, wake up… Bodhi."_

He startles awake because someone is shaking his shoulder. Not gently, although it's not forceful, either.

In the fraction of a second, Bodhi's eyes fly open, his body on red alert. He always locks the door. A habit he'd picked up early in his days with the Empire – No one in their right mind would sleep there with the door unlocked if possible otherwise. Besides him and Cassian, no one else knows the code, not even Jyn. Chirrut might, but Bodhi can't think of any reason why he would be in here at this time of night. So, whoever this is – it's not good news.

He shuffles with his back to the wall and blinks. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Once he can see, he immediately has to blink again.

It's… Cassian?

Cassian's face, precisely, hovering right in front of his and looking at him with a concerned expression.

"Bodhi?" The apparition asks, but Bodhi just rubs his hands over his face and groans.

"Great. Now I've even started hallucinating. Just when I thought it'd get better." All this wishful thinking must have gotten the better of him. "This is definitely a new low."

"What are you talking about? It's me. Cassian."

"No, it's not you. You're dead," Bodhi replies and feels stupid for talking back at something his own mind created. Isn't that like arguing with oneself, he wonders. "You're dead," he repeats, more as to remind himself than the pipedream he's obviously having. "You're gone… even though you promised me. You promised me… and you left me."

For the whole past week, he hasn't dared to think too much about this, but now it's all kind of just bubbling up and breaking out. He tries to fight the urge, but loses, and a small sob escapes his throat. "And I – I couldn't," he sniffs, "couldn't even tell you I… loved you…"

"Hey, hey, hey, Bodhi! Calm down, I'm not, I'm- Wait, _what?_ Did you just say you loved me? _Loved?_ As in not anymore?"

Bodhi looks up and the ghost seems quite distraught. Bodhi can't really understand why – if anyone has reason to be upset here, it's him. After all, he's the one who's seeing visions of his late crush.

"No… I mean, 'course I still do. But I can't… not really." He hiccups and wipes his nose by dragging his sleeve over his face. "You're dead and I'm arguing with my own hallucination. That's not generally considered healthy, is it?"

"Bodhi, just _… Look. At. Me_." The apparition pleads with insistence.

And he does. For the first time, he takes in his appearance. If his mind would be digging up this image of Cassian from his memories, Bodhi is pretty sure he'd be wearing his parka. He's always been fond of the fuzzy thing. Or just his thin brown shirt, that'd be possible, too. Or nothing at all. Though that particular thought is a bit inappropriate, considering the circumstances, Bodhi reminds himself.

But Cassian isn't wearing any of that. Instead, he's wearing a torn and tattered jacket, the shirt thereunder darkened with more soot Bodhi has ever managed to get onto his jumpsuit and it is littered with burn holes. And… Is that one of his eyebrows, scorched?

"Now listen here. I'm very much not dead. I'm pretty sure of that, you hear me?"

Bodhi nods slowly and continues to stare at the ghost – not ghost, Cassian.

"Really?" He wants to believe it. Force knows, he wants to. He tentatively reaches out to touch him. If his fingers go straight through and touch nothing but air, this might just be it for his sanity. Or his heart for that matter. "You're… not dead?" He whispers.

Cassian shakes his head. "Really. I promised you, didn't I? And I fully intend to keep the promises I make." He takes Bodhi's outstretched hand and places it on his heart. It is beating. Steadily.

Bodhi sucks in a sharp breath as Cassian brings up his other hand to Bodhi's face and wipes his cheek with his thumb, making Bodhi aware of the moisture there. "'m not crying," he mumbles stubbornly, though he's quite sure the opposite is the case.

"Course not." Cassian smiles at him. "There's engine grease on your face."

"Oh Force…" breaks out of Bodhi, half laugh, half sob, and he throws his arms around Cassian's neck.

"Careful, careful, I think I cracked a rib or two." He chuckles and holds Bodhi close, then asks quietly, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Tell you what? Bodhi asks with his voice muffled by Cassian's wrecked jacket. He can't think of what he means – because at the moment he's amazed at himself for being able to even string words together. Any other deep thought besides 'he's alive, and he's back, and he's here with me' would be asked too much right now.

"That you love me?" Cassian supplies helpfully.

"Oh, _that_ …" His cheeks darken a little when he remembers all the things he's said earlier, and he is glad Cassian can't see it. "I – I just didn't think… you'd…" He trails off, leaving the implication hanging, and just buries his face deeper.

What he doesn't expect is for Cassian to lift his head from his shoulder and place his hands on each side of Bodhi's face. What happens next even less so.

Cassian kisses him long and deep, but at the same time soft and gentle. When he pulls away, he still holds Bodhi's face close and looks him straight in the eye. Bodhi has never seen him look more alive.

"I had my ship blown up under me, crashed in a broken escape pod on this godforsaken planet right into a unit of troopers in an area where probably even the Empire only sets foot in every once in a blue moon. It took me nearly four days to get away, steal a shuttle, and literally fight my way back tooth and claw." His grip slightly tightens and he presses his forehead to Bodhi's. "And who did I come see first?"

"… m- me?" Bodhi stutters disbelievingly.

"Correct. And what tells you that?"

Bodhi doesn't answer. He just smiles – a wide, happy smile – then leans forward and kisses him back. Because, who is he to say no to Cassian Andor's version of _I love you, too_?

* * *

 _Fin._

* * *

Thank you for reading

Writin'Redhead (writinredhead. tumblr. com)


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